Midway
by Karaya 2
Summary: "This is the USS Midway, Where the hell are we?" When in route to Crete during the early days of the Cold War the USS Midway is caught in a Hurricane. When the damage is done Midway and her crew find themselves trapped ten years in the past. 100 aircraft, 4,000 men and caught between humanity and an Alien race.
1. Chapter One: CVB-41

**So it's been awhile since I've written anything but here I am again with a project that I'm bound to enjoy working on granted I can find the time to do so. Time is hard to come by when the military is jerking you every which way, NCO school really does a number on your schedule. This first chapter started as a bit of an experiment and it took me a hot minute to finally settle on a plot and time line I could roll with. Either way I'll step down an let y'all read.**

* * *

**Chapter One: **

**CVB-41**

* * *

**_August 24, 1950, Mediterranean Sea, 02:21_  
**

Grant Whalen awoke with a jolt, it was early in the morning and the sun had yet to rise. But someone was knocking on the door to his cabin, Whalen reached over and turned on a desk lamp, across the cabin his friend and fellow VFA-32 pilot Gordon Knox was also roused from his sleep.

"For Christ sake it's two in the morning." Knox said in a groggy haze.

Whalen stood up and lumbered over towards the door, careful not to trip over anything he cracked open the door and looked out into the walkway. Franklin Reed, the new kid to the unit, stood there dressed to fly with a look of worry on his face. Whalen opened the door the rest of the way and leaned on the door frame.

"For the love of god Franklin, it's too damn early for this. Why the hell does it look like you're about to go on mission?"

The young ensign was quick to apologize.

"I'm sorry sir but something big has come up, Skipper wants all pilots to be ready to fly and in the ready room."

Knox walked up behind Whalen. "What? Why? The hell is going on?"

"I don't know sir."

Whalen rolled his eyes. "You got to know something Franklin or you wouldn't be waking me up at this godforsaken hour."

Reed took a deep breath and looked up at his superiors, the panic could clearly be seen in his eyes.

"Sir, I think World War Three just kicked off."

Whalen stood there agape at the news, in late 1950 the possibility of a third world war was not far off. Soviet fighters were actively attacking American aircraft and the events of the Berlin airlift were still fresh in the minds of the people. On top of that the Soviets had shattered America's nuclear monopoly with the successful testing of its own atomic weapon. In short a Third World War was nothing to joke about.

Whalen nodded to Reed and told him to keep on waking pilots. He then turned around and reached under his bunk, pulled out his uniform and quickly got dressed. He hadn't finished tying his boots before he and Knox were racing down the winding passageways of the USS Midway.

Midway, the lead ship of her class had been commissioned just a week after the second world war had ended. In the early days of the cold war Midway had maintained a presence in the Mediterranean and Atlantic. Her mission was simple, support the Mediterranean nations against Communist pressure, if war kicked off then her mission changed to prevent the Soviets from getting access to a warm water port.

The two pilots entered the ready room, the ready room was laid out like a theater with rows of fold-out seats and a projector screen up front with a podium canted off to the side. Some of the younger pilots huddled around the veterans likes Captain Martin Dugald and Lieutenant William Klein, both World War two flyers. The ready room was buzzing with nervous chatter, the entire squadron had assembled in the room save for one.

Whalen sat behind Dugald and Klein, both of the World Wars two pilots looked over him and nodded. Like them, Whalen was a Korean war vet the only exception was that he was not a fighter pilot. Whalen had started out as a recon pilot flying an OS2U Kingfisher, he had put in his lot for fighters after the war and much to his joy his transfer was accepted.

"What goin' on Bill?"

Klein shrugged and shook his head.

"Beats me, an orderly woke us up 'bout fifteen minutes ago."

Whalen did have time to ask a follow-up question before the Skipper, Lieutenant Commander Jonathan "Skipper" Ross, entered the room and stood behind the podium.

"Alright sit down and listen up." The Skipper commanded, the chatter almost immediately died down as nervous pilots found their seats. The Skipper looked around taking a mental note of who was in attendance. "Here's the skinny, the Reds are mobilizing, so we're mobilizing too. Is this the start of World War Three? Who the hell knows, all they're telling us is Code Three be on alert."

When the Skipper spoke all the pilots listened, he had seen war before as a Dauntless pilot aboard the USS Enterprise during the war in the Pacific. At thirty-eight years old he was already an old man in the eyes of the younger pilots. The Skipper stepped aside and let an intel officer take his place.

"The Soviets might be planning to hop the strait into Alaska. Or they might be gearing up for a race through Germany and into Paris then up to Denmark and Norway. Right now it's not clear but we are to be ready to move at a moment's notice."

Whalen could see the parallels between the Soviet plan and that of the Nazis. If war was to erupt on the European continent it would mirror the German Blitzkrieg, and if the Soviets conquered France and the Scandinavian countries they could be looking at the Battle of Britain 2.0. The intel officer back away from the podium and let the Skipper take his place.

"Midway's concern is the eastern Mediterranean, we'll be flying top cover for the Turks and Greeks. Leyte's flyboys will handle the rest. A third of the squadron is to be suited up and in their fighters. Whalen, Reed, Klein, Dugald, Donato, Nadolski, Dupont, Koch. Get topside and get ready to fly, I suggest the rest of you sleep while you can. It's gonna be a busy night."

* * *

_**XXXXX**_

* * *

Dressed to fly, Whalen and Reed stepped out from the island onto the flight deck and ran to their fighters. In the trenches along the flight deck sailors manned their stations loading 20mm cannons and aiming them towards the sky. Midway was miles from the coast but that didn't prevent the crew from being on edge. At any moment Soviet aircraft could dive from the skies.

Whalen sat in his Corsair, a scuffling sound could be heard from behind the wing as someone climbed up his fighter. He turned around to see his wingman standing on the wing and making his way towards the cockpit.

"Hey Grant," Reed whispered through the darkness. "You hear the rumors?"

"Nope."

"Some of the guys are saying there are saboteurs on board. Russian agents who enlisted as sailors." Reed replied, his voice was high pitched with concern.

"Jesus Christ. Let's hope that it's just a rumor."

Reed nodded and slid off the wing of the Corsairs and ran over towards his fighter. At the age of 26, Whalen was the poster child of an American fighter pilot, brown hair, lively hazel eyes, and a brown leather flight jacket. Whalen flipped up the color of his jacket trying to shield himself against the cold

* * *

_**XXXXX**_

* * *

Captain Nathan Bauer stood on the bridge of the Midway looking down at the fighters below. He wore a Khaki uniform commonly worn by naval officers, at the age of 47 his hair was turning grey as the years ticked by. Bauer turned to one of the bridge officers.

"Meyer why the hell aren't those fighters below deck!" The veteran officer barked.

Lieutenant Commander Jacob Meyer, a 34-year-old man from Memphis, looked up from a map of the Mediterranean.

"We're still at Code Three sir, we need a third of the Thirty Second on alert."

Bauer ran a hand across his face and scratched his chin.

"Christ almighty, we got a hurricane coming our way get those boys below deck before they're blown off it."

"Aye sir." Meyer replied he paced across the bridge and over to a phone that connected him to the ship's intercom. He pulled the phone from it's mount to make his announcement.

"All hands stand down, I repeat all hands. Clear the flight deck and secure those planes below deck," Meyer paused to take a breath, he took a look over at the captain who was eyeing the building storm clouds. "We're sailing right into a storm folks, secure ordinance in the magazine and make sure all aircraft are tied down in the hangar. We're riding this one out."

In his mind Meyer knew Captain Bauer had made the right call, already the seas had gotten worse as wakes smashed against the side of the Midway. He hung up the phone and stood next to the captain. To the right of the Carrier the Destroyers _DD-840 USS Glennon _and _DD-832 Hanson_ tossed and turned in the waves, to the left the Battle Cruiser _CB-1 Alaska _didn't fare much better.

"Out of all the times to get caught in a storm," Bauer muttered, the captain paced over to a radio and seized it. "CIC, Bridge. Anything on radar?"

"Bridge we can't see a damn thing in this storm." The TAO replied.

"How about sonar?"

"Negative."

"So we're blind." Bauer stated.

There was silence for a few seconds before the TAO replied.

"Yes sir."

"Work the problem Lieutenant, I don't want to be in the dark when Ivan comes our way." Bauer hung up the hand mic.

"Sir, we've lost communication with our escorts."

"As if things couldn't get any worse." The captain muttered. "Signal them, tell them to hold formation. The last thing we need is a collision in this mess."

"Aye sir."

Meyer was about to relay the order to one of the bridge crew when a dull white light began to fill the bridge. Off the bow of the ship a small glowing white sphere cast an eerie light across the waves. The sphere grew turing from a dull light to a blazing inferno, all the bridge crew could do was turn away and shield their eyes as the light pierced the darkness of the storm. As instruments and radios began to short out, and a sharp noise filled Bauer's all he could think was 'The damn Reds, they finally did it.".

* * *

**_June 10, 1940, Mediterranean Sea, 08:45_**

* * *

Wing Commander Jane Thatch stood on the flight deck of the USS Lexington watching as an SBD Dauntless took to the sky. Moments before the deck crew had been at ease, playing cards or joking. But something had broken that calm, suddenly planes were being brought up from the hangar deck below and being loaded with ordinance. Something was amiss.

"Commander." Jane turned around to face a young petty officer behind her. "Admiral wants you on the bridge."

The pilot gave a silent nod and followed the petty officer into the Carriers island. In mid-1940 the world was in a fragile state, the return of the Neuroi and ideological division in Europe had brought the world to the brink of war. Whether that be against the Neuroi or themselves would be determined in the following days. This unrest had led to the creation of Task Force 58, a joint Liberion-Fuso naval force with the goal of deterring Karlsland aggression in the region. It wasn't long until she found herself on the bridge, Jane tucked her officer cap under her arm.

"You wanted to see me sir." Jane said standing at attention.

Admiral William Harrison put down a pair of binoculars and turned to face the wing commander. "I'll get to the point," Harrison started. "We've picked up an anomaly on radar, spiral vortex sixty nautical miles to the east."

"Neuroi sir?"

"Or a hurricane, but I won't exclude the possibility. We've also picked up multiple smaller contacts near it. The largest being around the same length as Lexington. If it truly is a new nest then now is the perfect time to strike."

Jane nodded. "I agree sir, however I believe it would be too risky to attack without prior reconnaissance."

"Captain Kawamoto sent up one of Kaga's recon birds thirty minutes ago, they should be returning with pictures here shortly."

As if on cue a petty officer entered the bridge and addressed the Admiral.

"Sir, Captain Kawamoto is waiting for you in the briefing room."

The admiral nodded and dismissed the NCO with a wave of his hand before turning back to Jane.

"Let's go find out who our mystery contacts are."

Jane followed the Admiral off the bridge and back through the winding halls of Lexington's island until she found herself below deck and in one of the Carriers briefing rooms. Inside the room stood Captain Shun Kawamoto, the short Fuso man was dressed in the white uniform of the Fuso Imperial navy. Next to him was Lieutenant Mei Shindou, one of four witches that currently operated within the joint fleet. Immediately upon entering the room Kawamoto threw several black and white pictures on the table.

"What have you Liberions been up too?" The Fuso officer inquired as he glared at Harrison. The Liberion admiral simply raised a brow in question as he collected the scattered pictures from the table, the contents of which only brought more questions.

"What in god's name."

"A carrier like none the world has ever seen, larger than that of your Lexington. If your nation had such a ship at their disposal why didn't they commit them to the fight earlier!" Kawamoto accused slamming his fist on the table.

Harrison handed the photos over to Jane before confronting the Fuso captain.

"You think the department of the navy would keep me in loop about such matters? They keep everything on a need to know basis, hell even the existence of this fleet is a close held secret. Something isn't right, the only shipyard capable of handling something like this is Newport. There's no way it could have been kept secret."

Seeing as how his Liberion counterpart was just as much in the dark as him, Kawamoto began to calm down.

"So what now."

Harrison scratched his chin. "Have you tried hailing them?"

Kawamoto shook his head. "Not yet Admiral."

"That would be a start, in the meantime set general quarters. It's as you said something doesn't feel right. Thatch assemble your air group, get a strike package put together and ready to launch."

Jane looked at the admiral in shock. "Sir, are you sure? They could be human.."

Harrison sighed. "Look kid, the neuroi aren't our only enemy. Nations like Karsland and Orussia have used neuroi as an excuse to invade and annex neighboring countries. Hell they sure as hell ain't ours, the only ones who are possibly capable of this is Karlsland."

* * *

_**XXXXX**_

* * *

Bauer groaned as he picked himself off the bridge floor, blood dripping into his left eye. Evidently when he collapsed he had hit his head against the instrument panel in front of him. Dazed and with his ears ringing, the commander of Midway look around the bridge as his crew came to. Those who were already conscious had manned their station and tried to assess the damage. As the Captain sat down and began to bark orders a medic tended to the gash on his forehead.

"Damage report!"

"None sir, blast did nothing to us!" bridge crewmember replied.

"Engines?" Bauer asked as the medic applied a gauze bandage to his wound.

"Still functional sir!"

Bauer snagged a hand mic off the console and keyed the comms. "TAO, Bridge. Any surface or air contacts?"

"One sir, bearing 285, 15,000 feet."

"Russians?"

"Unknown." The TAO replied.

"Keep me posted," Bauer keyed out and changed the channel. "Boss, Skipper. Launch the alert fighters, we have a bogey hanging on the edge of our radar."

"Aye skipper," The Air Boss replied. "It'll be a minute before we can fighters in the air, we're still trying to get the 32nd off the deck."

"Fuck it, I don't care get them up there! I want someone between us and whoever the hell attacked us."

"Aye sir."

Just as Bauer hung up the hand mic it began to ring again.

"Bridge, comms, we've picked up a transmission over high band. I believe they're trying to hail us."

Bauer sat up straight in his seat. "Any idea who it is."

The Captain could hear the hesitation in the communication's officers voice.

"Sir, it's from us."

Bauer turned on the loudspeaker so the bridge crew could hear. There was an audible click before the transmission came through.

"_Unknown vessel, this is United States Naval Warship CV-2 USS Lexington. Halt your movement and state your intentions. Any resistance will be met with force. I repeat Unknown vessel, this is United States Naval Warship CV-2 USS Lexington. Halt your movement and state your intentions."_

"Sir, we have Corsairs in the air."

Bauer nodded to the crew member before keying the comms. "Comm, Bridge. Have you replied?"

"Negative sir."

An uneasy silence took over the bridge as all eyes were on the Captain. None of this made sense, the USS Lexington had long since been sunk during the battle of the Coral Sea and the only other aircraft carrier in the area was Leyte. The first thing that came to mind was that it was a Soviet ruse, a trick designed to make Midway drop her guard.

"Patch me through."

"Aye sir." The communications replied. "You're transmitting sir."

"USS Lexington, this is Captain Nathan Bauer of the aircraft carrier Midway. We just came under attack by an unknown force. Your actions against seem to put you at fault. We will not change our course."

There were a few seconds of silence before the radio came to life again.

"_Captain Bauer, this is Admiral William Harrison. I order you to halt your movement and prepare to be boarded. Any resistance will result in the use of force, be smart Captain I will sink you."_

Bauer scowled. "This is a Midway class carrier, it was built to fight you better know how!" The Captain slammed the hand mic back into its mount. Before addressing one of the bridge crew. "Henderson sound general quarters, launch every aircraft we got. Find me that ship!"

Henderson nodded before walking over to the main circuit and flipping the general quarters alarm.

"This is not a drill, this is not a drill. General quarters, general quarters all hands man your battle stations. The route of travel is forward and up to starboard, down and aft to port. Set condition one throughout the ship. General quarters, general quarters."

* * *

_**XXXXX**_

* * *

In a black and blue flash a Corsairs burst over the lapping waves of the Mediterranean. The prop engine growled and it's glass canopy glimmered, four 20mm cannons mounted in the wings. Another Corsair fell in behind the leader, keeping a tight formation. The Corsairs pulled up from the sea's surface and into the clouds attempting to conceal their advance. They were deep within the enemy skies.

"Eyes open Reed, Ivan could be anywhere." Whalen said through his oxygen mask, he looked through his canopy at his wingman. The junior officer flashed a thumbs up and began scanning the horizon.

Through an opening in the clouds, Reed caught a glimpse of an aircraft.

"Bogey, three O'clock low!"

Whalen immediately looked to his three O'clock, cruising below the clouds a fixed wing, single engine aircraft droned on.

"Let's go say hello." Whalen replied as he pitched right and brought his aircraft into a dive. It only took seconds for him to drop a couple hundred feet and slide in behind the unknown aircraft. As he swung his Corsairs in behind the aircraft he got his first full look at what he was dealing with. "What the hell?"

Before the veteran pilot, painted in white with the red marking of Imperial Japan was an Aichi D3A dive bomber. Something he had not seen since his days at the naval academy. Whalen keyed his radio.

"Midway, Gypsy Four. Eyes on our radar contact. You're not gonna believe what I'm looking at."

There was a crackle of static before the carrier replied. "This is Midway, send it."

Whalen shook his head and scoffed. "Midway, I'm looking at a Jap dive bomber."

"A what!?"

"An Aichi D3A Dive bomber. What the hell is going on here?"

In fear the tail gunner of the dive bomber opened fire on Whalen's Corsairs, sending bursts of 7.7mm rounds towards the fighter.

Whalen rolled out of the way and cursed. He offset himself from the dive bomber as it began to take evasive maneuvers. "Midway be advised, the Val just opened fire."

A moment of static and silence passed. "Gypsy Four, Midway. You're free to engage the bomber."

"Roger, Reed on my wing. I'm gonna make a pass at this bastard."

"Yes sir."

Whalen increased throttle and once more positioned himself behind the bomber. The tail gunner opened fire as the Corsairs closed the gap. Whalen dipped and dodged out of the way of the incoming rounds. He could hear his airframe shutter as a few of the rounds were able to hit, still it was nothing major and the pilot continued his pursuit. He nestled in behind the bomber at a mere twenty meters, he slipped his index finger around the trigger and fired. At once the Corsair's four 20mm cannons kicked to life sending a shutter throughout the craft and filling the cockpit with the smell of cordite. The M3 cannons carried more than enough energy to shred the lightly armored dive bomber. However they would never get the chance to hit.

A blue circle with what amounted to ancient runes stopped the 20mm rounds short of their target. Whalen only had a split second to pitch his aircraft upwards and roll out of the way or collide with the shield. The pilot leveled his craft and shook his head, looking out of the cockpit he saw the Val gaining distance as it retreated from the air space. He was about to re engage when a small craft darted past him at high speed. Whalen only caught a glimpse but it seemed mechanical in nature, a radar report from the Midway confirmed his suspicions.

"Watch out Reed, seems like the Jap bastard has friends."

"Roger, tracking single bandit bearing 130. Multiple unknowns approaching from 285 degrees."

Whalen looked at the heading that Reed just reported, flying in a tight formation were four F4F Wildcats led by what looked like a young woman with medium length brown hair with some sort of mechanism strapped to her legs."Midway, Gypsy Four. Six new bandits have entered the battle space. Shit's getting awfully weird out here, permission to disengage for now."

"This is Midway, negative CAG is on the way with three more Corsairs. Continue to engage, help is on the way."

"Negative Midway, y'all don't understand. The bandit was able to block my rounds with some sort of shield."

"Gypsy Four, are you saying the Soviets have energy shield around their fighters?" The crewmember asked in disbelief.

"They're not Russians, for christ sake! I'm looking at four Wildcat fighters led by a young woman with mechanized legs!" Whalen yelled slamming his fist against the canopy.

There were a few seconds of awkward silence before Midway replied. "Roger, Gypsy Four wait one."

"Fuck it! Reed, chase the lone bandit. Do not fire, just play with them. I'm gonna scatter the escorts."

The young fighter pilot flashed a thumbs up and broke away from his flight lead. Reed, a nineteen-year-old kid from Washington, was the newest pilot to the unit only arriving a month before Midway's deployment to the mediterranean. His dusty blonde hair was covered by his flight helmet and his hazel eyes scanned the horizon for his target. Amongst the swirling clouds his target would have been hard to see if it hadn't been for a lucky opening in the clouds. Reed dove on his target and for the first time he caught a glimpse of what his flight leader had seen. Another young woman, with black hair tied back in a ponytail and carrying what looked like an M2 machine gun. He couldn't quite tell but he swore the women had the ears and tail of an animal.

The female pilot looked over her shoulder at him then dived into the clouds. Reed gave chase and followed the women into the dive, they broke out of the dive a few meters above the water and leveled out. The young fighter pilot was doing all he can to keep the women in his sights as she constantly changed direction in an attempt to shake Reed. Suddenly the women kicked her legs out in front of her and drastically dropped her speed allowing Reed's fighter to dart by. Reed pressed his face against the canopy in order to see behind him, he had turned around just in time to see the women get caught in the prop wash of his fighter and tumble into the sea. The fighter pilot cursed himself before keying the radio and circling the downed pilot.

"Four, this is six. Bandit just crashed into the water."

"Damn it Reed, I told you not to fire!" Came his flight leads angered response.

"I didn't shoot her down, she got caught in the prop wash and spun out of control!"

Reed could hear Whalen sigh over the radio. "Alright kid, Skipper's here and the rest of the bandit's ran off without a fight. Continue to circle the area, Midway is sending a rescue bird."

* * *

_**XXXXX**_

* * *

Jane touched down on the flight deck of the Lexington and slowed to a halt, flight crew swarmed around her and helped the wing commander lock her striker unit into its mount. She climbed out of her striker, an XF6F Hellcat, jumped down onto the wooden flight deck and looked up at the midday sun. It had been four hours since they first made contact with the unknown aircraft carrier and already things seemed grim. Somehow the ship had detected one of Kaga's observation aircraft and sent experimental fighters up to shoot it down. Upon hearing the news Jane had taken up part of her squadron along with her subordinate Cecilia Harris to rescue the craft. They had achieved their mission, the Fuso aircraft was safely back on Kaga but the price had been high. In the skirmish one of the fighters had given chase and shot down Cecilia. Jane put on her officers' cap and headed into Lexington's island and up to the bridge. During the skirmish she was able to see the tactical markings on the unknown fighters, finding out who they were nothing short of unsettling. On the bridge she found Admiral Harrison and Captain Kawamoto hunched over a sea chart planning their next move.

"Sir, may I speak?"

The two officers looked away from the chart and over at Jane.

"What is it Commander." Harrison replied.

Jane swallowed the lump in her throat as she retold the events that had unfolded moments ago, at the end of it she told the Admiral the single detail that had been on the forefront of her mind. "Admiral, those fighters. They were ours, navy fighters."

Harrison raised a brow. "What do you mean ours?"

"On the fuselage it said US Navy, the roundle was the same as ours as well. What purpose would they have to attack their own unless provoked? Admiral, it doesn't make any sense."

Harrison rubbed his chin in thought, it was as the air group commander had said something wasn't adding up. An advanced warship with high-speed fighters appearing out of nowhere. It was a scene right out of an H.G Wells novel.

"Commander, are you saying this is nothing more than a friendly fire incident?" Captain Kawamoto asked.

Jane nodded. "Sir, I don't believe these people are the enemy."

Harrison looked up at Jane. "We're calling off the search." The admiral walked over to the main circuit and contacted the radio room. "This is the Admiral, try and patch me through to the unknown ship."

* * *

_**XXXXX**_

* * *

Cecilia was dozing off, an hour ago after she had crashed into the Mediterranean, the men who she had been ordered the shootdown had pulled her from the water with an aircraft that she had only heard about in theories. When they arrived at their ship they had given her a towel, a change of clothes, a warm blanket and a cup of hot coffee. They held her in what seemed like a briefing room similar to the one she and her squadron shared aboard the Lexington. Cecilia had chosen to sit in one of the padded seats next to a heavy wood table. She was about to fall asleep when she heard the door click open. The witch jumped to her feet, heavy wool blanket still around her shoulders as an older man wearing a khaki Navy uniform walked in followed by a man in a flyers uniform, similar to those worn on the Lexington. As the pilot closed the door she caught sight of the marine guards posted outside the room. The man took a seat across the table from her.

He cleared his throat and began to speak. "I'll get straight to it, my name is Captain Nathan Bauer commander of the USS Midway. The man next to me is my CAG Lieutenant Commander Ross."

Cecilia locked eyes with the commander before replying. "Flight lieutenant Cecilia Harris, Navy Fighter Squadron Six."

"Now here's the skinny of it," Bauer said folding his hands on the table. "We get a call late last night that the Russians are mobilizing, nothing new they've done it before. Then we get hit with some sort of weapon, takes out all our electronics, and when we finally get everything back up and running we get a call from a ship we all believed was long since sunk threatening to sink us. See the situation I'm in?" Cecilia just looked at the commander not opting to say anything. "Look Lieutenant I'm just trying to figure out what the hell is going on here. Decade old fighters, resurrected warships, young girls flying around with machines strapped to their legs. Actually makes the thought of a war with the Soviets more comforting."

"Those fighters you sent after us, what are they? Were they built with Neuroi technology?"

Bauer blinked. "Come again?"

"Your fighters, there are only two things in this world that can obtain that sort of speed and maneuverability. Neuroi and Witches."

"Witches?" Ross asked with a puzzled expression.

"You say that like I'm supposed to know what that means." Bauer replied. "The hell is a Neuroi?"

Cecilia was taken aback. "How do you not know what a Neuroi is. After all the damage they've done, after we lost the first war."

Bauer looked at his CAG then back at the young women before him.

"Ma'am you need to start explaining everything to us right now." Bauer said in a calm tone.

Cecilia nodded and took a breath. She told them about the Neuroi, an aggressive alien race that was waging war on humanity. How they consumed huge swaths of land and destroyed everything in their path. Humanity had beaten them back thirty years ago during the First Neuroi war but at a high price. Since then humanity has been developing more effective means at fighting them, and each other. Thus entered the witch into a combat role, thanks to the creation of the Striker Unit and its magic enhancing abilities these young women had become a force multiplier in military nations around the world. She went onto explain how the Royal Family of Karlsland had whipped their people into a frenzy saying they were being treated unfairly. Seeing as how the Karlsland people suffered the greatest loss of life, money, and material during the war they began demanding compensation.

The rhetoric pushed by the royal family soon lead to the annexation of Dacia in 1938, along with the invasion of Belgica in 1939. In September of that same year as if spurred on by humanity's lust for war the Neuroi returned, this time over Ostmark. Due to the fear and discord that had been spread by Karlsland, and believing the Neuroi would be destroyed like they were in Hispania no one came to the aid Ostmark. That same month the nation would fall. Humanity still not trusting each other, was forced to fight a defensive war on multiple fronts. Mile by mile humanity began losing territory as nations began to fall.

Ross passed back and forth with his arms crossed as Cecilia finished recounting the events that lead up to now.

"What's wrong Ross?" Bauer asked tapping a finger against the table as he processed the information.

"Gee I don't know Skipper, the fact that I have to relive the Second World War, or the fact that Humanity is fighting a war of extinction, honestly can't tell you which one is worse, or hey maybe it's the fact I'm on a modern aircraft carrier back in nineteen fuckin forty!" Ross yelled as he picked up a chair and threw against the bulkhead.

Bauer continued to tap his finger against the table. "Calm down John, we ain't gonna achieve anything by throwing chairs against the wall."

"And what do you suggest we do? Run? Hide somewhere until humanity is wiped out. Or maybe we should play hero, try and save humanity." Ross replied and at slumped down in a chair.

Bauer glanced over at Cecilia then over at Ross, the captain stopped tapping his finger. "Would that be so bad?"

Ross leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. "What?"

Bauer stood up and started pacing. "This morning we were ready to launch our planes in defense our allies, we swore an oath that we would defend them. I don't see how this changes the mission. Albeit it may not be the Reds we're bombing."

Ross began to chuckle. "You're insane, fuck it. Maybe in our little crusade we might just find us a way home." The CAG stood up and headed for the door. "I'll tell my boys to stand down."

Bauer nodded as Ross made it way out the door, leaving the Captain and the Witch alone in the briefing room. "Thank you Lieutenant Harris, you've managed to shine some light on our situation."

"I appreciate it Captain, but I have to ask. What did he mean by 'back in 1940'?" Cecilia asked.

Bauer lit a cigarette and took a deep drag before replying. "Well as you can see, we ain't Neuroi. Those fighters you saw, this ship the Midway and everything on it. It's the culmination of human engineering from the not so distant future. In fact if it truly is 1940 this ship will be launched five years from now." Bauer said taking another drag of his cigarette as he studied Cecilia's face for a reaction.

The young pilot gave the veteran captain a warm smile. "Strangely enough that's the first thing I've heard all day that makes sense."

"You're free to walk about the ship," Bauer said standing up from his seat. "With an escort that is."

* * *

**_June 10, 1940, Mediterranean Sea, 15:21_**

* * *

The USS Lexington sat in the Gulf of Trieste with her combined battle group of Liberion and Fuso vessels. The fleet, twenty-five vessels in total, consisted of two aircraft carriers the _Kaga _and the _Lexington_, the Battleships _Washington, _and _Kirishima_. Supporting the capital ships were the Heavy Cruisers _Northampton, Salt Lake City, Takao_, and countless light cruisers and destroyers made up the fleets anti-aircraft screen. Overhead, Fuso Zeros and Liberion Wildcats loitered overhead ready to intercept any unwelcome craft be it Neuroi or human.

A few hours earlier Admiral Harrison had gotten in contact with the enigmatic vessel and had called for a suspension of hostilities. When the reply came from the Midway he was surprised to see that his adversary had agreed to him terms to meet in person off the coast of Romagna. However old habits die hard and Harrison wasn't naive enough to totally drop his guard. As a preventive measure, the admiral had ordered his fighters to set up a cap over the fleet. He even went so far as to alert the Romagnan military and request that aircraft be dispatched to protect the fleet and Romagnan soil.

As fighters soared high above the carriers, Jane sat on the wing of Devastator torpedo bomber. The witch commander had a fondness of fixed winged aircraft having flown crop dusting aircraft back home in Arkansas before joining the Navy. The feeling of sitting behind a radial engine never left her.

"Commander, may I have a word?"

Jane looked away from the fighters and at the Fuso witch standing before her.

"You don't have to be so formal Mei," Jane said as she slid off the wing of the bomber. "We've been friends too long for you to keep calling me commander."

Mei smiled before she spoke. "Any word on Cecilia?"

Jane nodded. "She's aboard the USS Midway, I was able to speak to her when Admiral Harrison contacted them. According to her she is being treated well and says that the Midway is not our enemy."

Mei gave a sigh of relief. "Good, with the state of the war we're in no position to lose witches."

Once again Jane nodded, Mei was right the world was in no position to lose witches. As it stood a witch was the only ones who could effectively fight and destroy a neuroi making them the greatest force multiplier humanity had. Even a single witch could sway the tide of battle or at the very least save hundreds of lives. However humanity had not capitalized on this advantage soon enough and very few nations had combat ready witches and even fewer countries had the necessary Striker units. A loss of a witch was something humanity could not afford.

Mei's face took a more serious expression. "Those experimental fighters, what were they like?"

"You'll see soon enough." Jane replied pointing towards the mouth of the bay. It was just visible with the naked eye, the towering island and long flight deck of the Midway as it came over the horizon.

Mei stood their agape. The aircraft carrier was massive much larger than any in the world, including the Shokaku class carriers deployed by her home country. It was, by all means, a supercarrier. As the carrier approached the fleet a light was seen from the Midways island as a signalman relayed a message. It only took seconds for the Lexington to respond with a message of her own. The crew of the Lexington had gathered on the flight deck, from engine mechanics to cooks, to Marines came to see the arrival of the Midway. The massive carrier fell in two hundred meters away from Lexington, the Midway was a good 200 feet longer than the Lexington and was bristling with a plethora of anti-aircraft weapons ranging from twin mounted 20mm cannons to single mount five-inch cannons. On her deck were aircraft that the crew had never before seen. The only thing they could recognize were the navy markings on her aircraft and the naval designation 41 on her island.

Admiral Harrison had watched the ship approach from the observation deck of his ship. It was indeed as Jane had said, it was a Liberion ship. However that didn't answer everything. In mid-1940 Liberia only had seven aircraft carriers, the airgroup of the carrier was like nothing he had ever seen, and the Liberian flag waving above the Midway had 48 stars instead of just one. Harrison watched as a rotor wing aircraft took off from the deck of the Midway as he puffed on a cigar. A few minutes later a corded phone began to ring.

He picked it up and answered. "This is Harrison."

"They're here sir."

Harrison nodded. "I'll be right down."

* * *

_**XXXXX**_

* * *

Tensions were high but it was expected to say the least. The moment Captain Bauer and his Marine escort stepped off the HO4S helicopter they were met with rifles pointed at them. The Marine escort had instinctively raised their carbines in return and a shouting match ensued as both sides demand the other lower their weapons. Safeties had been flipped off and both sides were ready to gun each other down when Cecilia had stepped off the aircraft and began to talk Lexington's marines down. Somehow the young witch was able to resolve the situation as either side began to stand down. Cecilia quickly turned and apologized to Bauer, the Captain dismissed the issue saying he would have done the same himself. Bauer watched as a man in a khaki Navy uniform accompanied by a Japanese officer approached him. The two officers stopped short of him, the man in the khaki uniform extended a hand.

"Admiral William Harrison, First Allied Task Fleet."

Bauer shook the admiral's hand and returned the greeting. "Captain Nathan Bauer, United States Sixth Fleet."

Harrison released his grip and looked over at the Midway. "Impressive ship, I've never seen anything quite like it. What class did you say she was again?"

Bauer eyed the Admiral with suspension. "Midway class, she the lead ship."

"Lead ship you say, how many more are there?"

Bauer blinked, Harrison was trying to draw information out of him in the form of a conversation. "Including her, three."

"Her airgroup?"

"Enough to sink a fleet." Bauer replied as he stared down the admiral.

Harrison pivoted on his heels and faced the captain. "I'm not your enemy Captain Bauer. I'm not sure what mission the allied command tasked you with but the mission of this fleet is to keep the peace, and that's what I intend to do Captain."

"With due respect Admiral I'm here to explain my situation and find a resolution."

"And what would that be Captain?" Captain Kawamoto.

Bauer glanced over at the Fuso man before revealing the events that had led that had put both sides on a collision course. At the end of it all, both Harrison and Kawamoto stared at Bauer in disbelief.

"Impossible, you expect us to believe that nonsense!" Kawamoto replied.

Bauer glared at Kawamoto. "The Hawaii Operation, 28 November 1941, six carriers will depart from the Chishima Islands north of Japan, the carriers are the Akagi, Kaga, Shokaku, Zuikaku, Hiryu, Soryu. On Seventh December 1941 the carriers will launch 353 planes to attack Pearl Harbour in an attempt to cripple the Pacific fleet."

"The operation was canceled after the fall of Ostmark," Kawamoto replied gritting his teeth. "How the hell do you know all this?"

"Because I lived through it, Mr. Kawamoto. But for some reason God sent me and crew back here, a chance to make a difference."

Admiral Harrison tapped his foot against the flight deck, he looked over at Bauer. "It sounds ridiculous, but for god's sake it's the only thing making sense right now." Harrison was about to continue when one of his men ran over to him and said something Bauer couldn't quite hear. The admiral nodded and turned back to Bauer. "If you truly want to make a difference then now's your chance. The Neuroi have broken through the Munich defense line, Karlsland is calling for aid and we're the only ones in any position to help." Harrison didn't wait for a reply, he turned to Jane and began barking orders. "Commander get your air group in the air, the quicker we react the more lives we can save."

* * *

**As I said a bit of an experiment. I know the whole "Our world military group in Strike Witches universe" (Especially a Naval task force) had been overdone but hell I like a challenge and I wanted to see what I could do. Bear in mind I'm as far a Naval man as one can get, I'm an armor crewman for Pete's sake. And any experience I've had flying was with the Civil Air Patrol what seemed like a millennia ago. So if y'all see something out of the ordinary or just isn't right feel free to PM me or leave it in the reviews.**

**Anyways expect more chapters in the (hopefully) near future.**


	2. Chapter Two: Welcome to Karlsland

**A/N So here we are with chapter two, took me a little over the month to write. Had to take short jabs at this when ever I could find the time and I'm not gonna like most of this was either written on my phone while we were out at gunnery or when I was more than a little drunk and or hung over. Soju really does sneak up on you eh. Either way I got it done and I must have proof read the bitch a half a hundred times. Either way I'll step aside I'll try to address some comments at the end of the chapter, enjoy.**

* * *

**Chapter Two:**

**Welcome to Karlsland**

_**June 10, 1940, Munich Defense Line, 13:59**_

A young Karlsland panzer grenadier, no older than 18, ran through the winding trenches of the Munich defense line with a Kar-98 in hand. The fields of southern Karlsland burned around him, littered with the hulks of burning tanks and fighting vehicles. The Neuroi had launched their attack on the defensive line several hours earlier sending waves of drones into the minefield effectively clearing it in a matter of minutes. Then came their tanks, four-legged mechanical walkers with joints bent like that of a spider. The Karlslander tanks, the majority of them being Panzer Mk III and IV, were able to hold off the swarm for a while before being overwhelmed. What remained of the panzer were now pulling back across to a secondary defensive position leaving only the entrenched infantry to deal with the oncoming hordes. Rifles would due against the smaller bipedal drones, however, nothing less than an anti-tank gun was needed for the larger Neuroi. Even then one had to be lucky to hit the core, coordination and mass fire between anti-tank positions increased one's chance of hitting the core. The Panzer Grenadier fell in next to an officer and began yelling over the gunfire.

"Sir, the center has collapsed! I couldn't link in with anyone from the first and the Third Panzer has been overrun!"

The officer ducked down just as a beam of red energy impacted just short of the trench.

"We have to hold Private, it shouldn't be too long before the Luftwaffe arrives." The officer replied before he resumed firing at the Neuroi.

The private stood up from behind the trench and brought the stock of his rifle to his shoulder and began to fire. Taking on the humanoid drones wasn't a challenge their core was always in the same spot, center mass right in the chest. However, it was the sheer number of them and their armored support that posed a challenge. The private continued to cycle his bolt firing round after round only stopping to thumb rounds into the magazine. His fire grew more frantic the closer the Neuroi got to the trench line, he was sure they were going to be overrun hadn't it been for the sudden burst of autocannon fire from above. In a blur a young woman flying a Ju-87 model striker and wielding an MG-151 20mm cannon burst overhead. Her blonde hair was tied back in a long ponytail and she wore a black overcoat. Four more witches flew overhead each strafing section's in front of the trench line.

"Witches, the Witches are here!" A soldier called from somewhere down the trench. For the battered ground forces all hope was not lost.

High above the burning fields of the battlefield Squadron commander Adolphine Galland surveyed the situation below. The general order to retreat had been given almost forty minutes earlier and she had not expected to see men still manning the trenches. Perhaps they were the reason why Army Group B hadn't been surrounded and subsequently destroyed. Adolphine watched as her subordinate, Hanna Rudel performed another flawless run on the Neuroi below showering the battlefield in white shards. Hanna banked around and stopped next to her commander as the other members of the squadron committed to the attack.

"There's a lot more of them than I expected." Hanna said as she fed a fresh magazine into her cannon.

"The Neuroi always attack in swarms."

"I meant the infantry." The ground attack witch replied before once more diving on the enemy.

The squadron commander shook her head before returning to her observation, from the trench line a flash of light got her attention. There an officer with a small mirror signaled for her. Adolphine rolled over and dove towards the trenches, she kicked her BF-109E striker model out in front of her and came to a stop a few meters above the trench. An officer with the rank of major ran over to her.

"Aren't we glad to see you," The officer started. "We were starting to believe command had forgotten about us."

"Major, what haven't you retreated!? The order to fall back was given an hour ago!" Adolphine demanded. The officer was taken aback but was quick to collect himself.

"Our lines of communication were cut, we sent a runner but he hasn't returned. Our last standing orders were to hold until relieved."

"Well consider yourselves relieved," Adolphine spat, she wasn't mad at the infantrymen but instead at the incompetence of high command. "Get your men and get outta here, we'll cover you. Last I heard all retreating units are regrouping at the Lech River to cover the civilian evacuation."

The officer nodded before barking orders to his men. The squadron commander watched as one by one the soldiers slipped away from the firing line move deeper into the maze of fortifications. With the infantry now moving out of harm's way, Adolphine could turn her full attention on the battle. Her witches had cut down swaths of Neuroi relieving pressure off the ground forces, but there were still too many of them. However, they were lucky that flying class Neuroi had not yet entered the fight.

As Aldolphine pulled away from the trench line a voice came over her communicator.

"Ma'am, unknown aircraft approaching bearing 168."

The voice belonged to Helmina Lent, the units night witch, the young witch had dark brown hair that went down to the base of her neck and a wolf familiar. She operated a Ju-88C striker meant for night operations. Adolphine had meant to give her the day off however the situation at hand had demanded all hands on deck.

Adolphine keyed her communicator and replied. "Neuroi?"

"Unsure, but there are a lot of them."

"Roger, Hanna, Alexandra continue to suppress the ground forces. Helmina, Waltraud, you're with me."

Her unit replied with a sequence of rogers and yes Ma'am as they followed their commanders' orders. The squadron leader pulled grabbed her GwZF4 scope from around her neck and peered through it activating her magic eye. Miles away and closing fast on her position was a massive formation of fixed-wing aircraft. She didn't recognize any of the aircraft in the formation, they ranged from single engine inverted-gull wing fighters to what looked like heavier tapered wing attack aircraft, the strangest being an aircraft that flew without a prop engine. Through her communicator, she heard her base commander address her.

"Captain Galland, Liberion and Fuso support is approaching from the south."

"Yeah tracking, where the hell did they come from?"

_**XXXXX**_

Whalen leveled out his Corsair at 17,000 feet just above the cover of the clouds, the Veteran pilot looked up at the mirror hanging just in front of him. Whalen let out a sigh of relief to see that his wingman was still there. Fifty yards behind him, Reed chased Whalen at 250 miles per hour. Two more Corsairs fell into formation, the pilots scanned the horizon for any sign of their enemy. They had taken off from the deck of the Midway an hour earlier as part of a strike on a Neuroi battle group attacking the Munich Defense line. Whalen and his flight were only the lead elements of the strike. Stacked up behind them was the rest of their squadron VFA-32 Swordsmen along with pilots of VFA-33, another Corsair squadron. Below the Fighting Thirty Second was the AD-1 Skyraiders of VA-35, and prowling above them and hidden by the clouds was their top cover, F9F-2 Panthers of VF-31.

For VFA-32 their mission was flak suppression, taking out enemy anti-aircraft guns so that the Skyraiders had a clear shot at heavier Neuroi tanks they had been briefed about earlier. Despite being brief on the threat by members of Lexington's strike group it was still hard to believe. However, if everything their new found allies said was true then the ground Neuroi posed little threat to Midway's fast-moving aircraft only offering slow firing, inaccurate energy bursts as anti-air. Nothing compared to what some of the pilots faced during the Second World War.

"Skipper" Ross, pointed his finger like a gun and motioned forward. Target sighted. Between breaths from his oxygen mask, Whalen peered over the edge of his fighter the midday sun making every scratch on the canopy visible. In the distance, silhouetted against the green fields of Southern Karlsland, black hordes of Neuroi marched, completely unaware of the Corsairs above.

"Prepare to attack." Came the Skippers voice over the radio.

Whalen slid his goggles over his eyes and took a deep breath. He reached to the left of his gunsight and flicked a switch, concentric yellow rings glowed in the plexiglass panel. Whalen armed the guns of his Corsair, he flicked two more switches arming the rockets and the bomb slung beneath the belly of his fighter. The bomb he carried was designed for this kind of work, a silver cylinder protruded from the nose housing within it a radio fuse that would trigger the warhead above the ground, showering the enemy with deadly shrapnel.

"Deploy air brakes."

Whalen reached forward and grabbed the landing gear lever, the lever could be lowered to the right in a slot "Landing gear" or to a slot on the right marked "Dive Brake". The Corsairs, unlike the Skyraiders, didn't have a standard air brake to stabilize the aircraft in a dive so it had to rely on the wheels to fit the bill. Throughout the formation, the front wheels lowered from the wings, the drag caused by the lowered gear caused the planes to lose speed.

The Skipper was the first to dive into the fray followed by his wingman, Lieutenant Junior Grade Henry Peterson. When it was time for Whalen's element to dive he didn't hesitate, he banked left before pushing the stick forward and pointed his nose towards the Neuroi below. The force of the dive pinned him against the seat of his fighter. It was then that the Neuroi began to fire, bright red beams of energy burst around his fighter, however, none of them came close to hitting.

Whalen looked at the rearview mirror again to see if his wingman was still with him. He saw Reed sitting tall in his fighter, his white helmet almost brushing the canopy. Whalen smiled before bringing his attention back to the Neuroi. The energy beams slipped behind him leaving him with a clear view of his target, a cluster of Neuroi with their cannon pointed skywards. He watched his altimeter count down at a rapid pace, 12,000 feet, 11,000, 10,000. The energy burst grew more intense, as he zeroed in on his prey he felt as if he was diving through hell. The flashes of the Neuroi guns were his target, and that's exactly where he planned to go. 6,000 feet, 5,000, 4,000.

Whalen squeezed the trigger and with a deafening roar, four 20mm cannons raked the cluster of Neuroi sending glowing white shards flying off their bodies. At three thousand feet, Whalen pressed the red button on the top of his control stick and freed the bomb from its constraints. Behind him, his wingman did the same and released his proximity bomb. Whalen pulled back on the controls and lifted his plane from the dive. The g forces worked against him and his vision began to blacken, the wings of his aircraft creaked threatening to tear off. He pulled off a mere thousand feet above the ground and zipped away from his target. He didn't see it but his bomb had hit with a devastating effect, detonating above the Neuroi the bomb had sent a cone of molten steel down onto the creatures. The thing armor of the anti-air class Neuroi did little to protect them as the shrapnel tore through them easily finding its way to the core. Several bursts of brilliant white light erupted behind the Corsairs as Whalen and his wingman came around for another pass on the enemy. Reed tore his oxygen mask from his face and grinned.

"Good hit boss, those bastards are outta commission!"

Whalen replied with a thumb up. "It ain't over yet."

The Corsairs darted over the trench line catching the awestruck looks of the Karlsland soldiers. The two attack pilots zeroed in on a group of Neuroi advancing towards the defense line. The Neuroi began to fire volley after volley of lasers as Whalen and Reed both released their own deadly barrage of rockets. Years of training ensured that the HVAR rockets hit with unprecedented accuracy. The two pilots pulled away from the battle zone making way for Midway's Skyraiders. The Skyraiders carried a considerably heavier load than the Corsairs, two one thousand pound bombs were slung under the wings and one two thousand pound bomb under the belly. Dive brakes deployed from the fuselage of the Skyraiders as they started their run and thanks to the Corsairs none of the Neuroi focused on the attack aircraft that now dived on them. Whalen looked over his shoulder in time to see the bombs hit with a thunderous roar, pulverizing countless Neuroi. Any Neuroi that began to regenerate was quickly dispatched by Lexington and Kaga's witches who had now joined the battle.

Adolphine and her flight observed the airstrike for their perch high above the battlefield. In mid-1940 the Luftwaffe was the largest and most advanced air force in Europe, maybe even the world perhaps. But as she witnessed the killing efficiency of these aircraft and pilots, how technologically advanced some of them were, the Karlsland witch realized that the Luftwaffe superiority was now in question. Waltraud Nowotny, the newest witch in the flight, swung in next to her commander. The young witch was tall in stature, having short brown hair and a Great Dane familiar.

"Who are they?"

"I'm not sure, those look like Liberion markings." Another witch, Alexandra Şerbănescu, replied. The brunette witch replaced the drum magazine on her MG42, out of the five witches in the flight Alexandra was one of the most battle-hardened falling in with Adolphine and Hanna. While the other two had seen combat during the Hispania civil war and subsequently the Neurio uprising that ended it, Alexandra was blooded during the disastrous defense of her homeland Ostmark. Adolphine heard the clap of a bolt slamming forward as Hanna loaded another magazine into her cannon.

"Whoever they are they're buying our boys the time they need to escape, something we should be doing." The ground attack witch said before rolling over into a dive and strafing a group of Neuroi with her 20mm cannon.

Adolphine shook her head, Hanna was reckless but somehow she always got results. The flight leader turned to the rest of her unit. "The hell are you waiting for? You're not gonna let some Liberion and Fuso pilots steal all the glory!?"

Adolphine dived and fell in next to one of Midway's Corsairs, the pilot of the craft was more than a little surprised to see a witch just of his wing tip. Adolphine smiled and waved at the pilot in which the Liberion replied with a confused wave of his own. Aldolphine pointed towards a cluster of tank class Neuroi and gestured for the pilot to follow her into the attack run, the pilot flashed a thumbs up before shifting his attention to his target.

The pilot, Lieutenant William Klein, shook his head and muttered. "Well, that's a new one."

"What Klein, never had a half-naked girl with plane legs fly on your wing?" Another Corsair pilot, Captain Martin Dugald replied in a nonchalant voice.

"Have you."

"Nope, gotta say this is a first."

Klien made the first pass shredding the Neuroi with autocannon fire followed, the Neuroi had little chance to react before Dugald hit the beast with his own torrent of cannon rounds exposing the red core. Adolphine capitalized on this but placing a well-aimed burst of machine gun fire on the core destroying it. The witch flew through the debris and caught up to the Corsairs and nestled in between them. She flashed a thumbs up to the pilots, the pilot she had been communicating shook a fist in reply. The flight leader pulled away from the Corsairs and hovered in place, the battlefield that had been so desperate just a few moments ago had turned into a turkey shoot. In the distance, she could see a dust cloud kicked up by the retreating Wehrmacht forces. They would live to fight another day, but only if other units along the defensive line had been so lucky. This section of the line may have been wiped of Neuroi, but other sectors had broken allowing the Neuroi deeper into Karlsland. In short, it was a resounding defeat for Karlsland. As the Liberion and Fuso planes began to form up and head south a young woman stopped next to her, and extend a hand in greeting.

"Commander Jane Thatch, commander of Lexington's airgroup."

Adolphine shook the Liberion's hand.

"Captain Adolphine Galland, Flight leader JG-26. Glad y'all were around, the situation was getting a little dicey."

"Sorry we didn't get here in time, if we had gotten the call sooner the Munich line would still be standing."

By now both witches from JG-26 and from Kaga-Lexington Task-force had circled around. Adolphine shook her head.

"Don't trouble yourself, commander, it's not your fault. If anyone's to blame it's the pigheaded Bureaucrats in Berlin. I'm sure Reichmarshall Goering did everything he could to not reach out to the Allies."

"Hauptmann!" Hanna exclaimed.

"What, it's true. If those bastards Berlin stopped seeing the world as our enemy for one fucking minute then maybe we wouldn't have Neuroi in Southern Karlsland."

Rudel suppressed her rage and calmly addressed her commander. "That's dangerous talk Hauptmann."

"So is incompetence Luetnant."

A tense silence overtook the group as Adolphine and Hanna stared each other down. Jane brought a closed fist to her mouth and coughed.

"Well, either way, Captain we were happy to be of assistance. If there is anything else we can." Jane brought a hand to her communicator. "Hold on." She listened to the transmission before replying with a simple roger. She turned back to the Karlsland aviator with a look of worry. "One of our birds took a hit during the attack, he's leaking fuel and can't make it back to the carrier. Is there a base nearby where he can land?"

Adolphine nodded. "Yes, of course, we'll escort him to our base at Achern. It's not too far from here."

Jane smiled. "Thank you, we'll leave him in your care."

Adolphine watched as the Liberion and Fuso aircraft departed south leaving their wounded bird behind. Below them, a lone Corsair circled above the wreckage of the battlefield. Adolphine observed the craft, a blue naval camouflage, inverted gullwings, a laser burn under the wings, and a large letter E painted on the tail indicating which carrier she belonged to. Adolphine used her witch's communicator to keyed into the aircraft's radio.

"Liberion aircraft, this is Captain Adolphine Galland of the Karlsland Air Force. You are to follow us to our base at Achern. Acknowledge."

It only took seconds for the pilot's voice to crackled over the radio. "This is Ensign Franklin Reed, acknowledged. Be advised I'm bleeding fuel estimated flight time is less than an hour."

"Roger, stay with us. Achern is not far."

Reed pulled behind the witches as he followed them deeper inland. The young pilot shook his head and muttered. "Whalen's gonna kill me."

_**Achern Airfield, 15:22**_

A German voice flooded Reed's ears as he approached the landing strip, he looked down at his fuel gauge sitting just a hair above the red line. He had called it close.

"He says you have permission to land." Adolphine's voice came over the radio.

"Roger, deploying flaps." Reed locked the flaps into the landing position as his craft glide towards the runway. When he saw his altimeter reach 300 hundred feet had dropped his landing gear. "Gypsy five on final approach."

Over the radio, he could hear Karlsland witch relay his message in German. Reed hated landing the Corsair, in the air, the fighter was a monster fast and agile with good visibility all around. But on landing the placement of the cockpit became a hindrance making the landing strip disappear beneath him, his only indication that it was still there was when his wheels hit the tarmac. He heard his tires squeal as they hit the ground, his aircraft jumped a few feet into the air before landing back down on the pavement. His aircraft rolled to a stop as the props began to die down. He unbuckled his harness and slid open the canopy as the ground crew swarmed his aircraft. He checked his M1917 revolver before pushing himself out of the cockpit and climbing down onto the wing. Around his aircraft the Karlsland ground crew studied his fighter, some of them shot suspicious glances up at him. Adolphine and Alexandra pushed their way through the crowd and made their way up to the fighter.

"Welcome to Achern," Adolphine started as Reed slide off the wing of his Corsair. The witch extended her hand in greeting. "Adolphine Galland."

Reed studied the woman, long black hair, dull grey eyes, she wore a leather flight jacket and had a scope around her neck. The most jarring thing, however, was how the woman and her companion both wore no pants. Reed shoved the thought to the back of his mind before returning the gesture. "Franklin Reed."

Adolphine smiled. "That's one hell of a fighter you got there, what's it called?"

Reed was intent to keep his guard up, how with how genuine Adolphine's smile was he couldn't help but to relax.

"F4U Corsair, it's a naval fighter bomber. Shame I didn't treat this one better." Reed replied rubbing the back of his neck.

"Don't fret about it, everyone gets shot up once in a while, some more than others." Alexandra chuckled as she shot a glance at Hanna who was making her way towards the squadron barracks.

Adolphine studied the burn under the Corsairs wing, the laser didn't cut deep but it was enough to nick one of the fuel lines running to the engine. "Shouldn't be a hard fix, we'll have you back up in the air in a day or two."

"That's good if you don't mind Captain I would like to use one of your radio's to contact my ship. You know, to let them know I'm alright."

"Certainly, after all, I believe we owe you."

Reed followed the two witches to the command building as ground crews rigged a Kettenkrad to the Corsair and towed it towards the hangar. In the barrack building, Hanna paced back and forth in a rage.

"The hell is the Captain thinking, letting one of them land here. We should have shot him down after the Liberions left."

"Calm down Hanna, do remember they helped us." Helmina said as she took off her flight jacket and hung in on one of the many chairs in the squadron day room.

"We had it handled Mina!"

"Maybe we did, maybe we didn't," Waltraud replied as she lounge on the sofa reading a news article. "Either way, they did help save a lot of lives."

"Either way she's dangerous, Nowi!"

Waltraud looked up from the newspaper. "I told you not to call me that. And what the hell do you mean by dangerous?"

By now Hanna was fuming. "You heard what she says about high command, about the Chancellor and the Kaiser. That kind of sedition is dangerous and only leads to split loyalties."

Mina clenched her fist. "Half of southern Karlsland just fell and you're worried about one woman's opinion!?"

Hanna scoffed. "The Reich is strong, the south will be reclaimed."

"I can't believe you! I'm gonna go take a bath." Mina shouted as she stormed out of the day room.

Nowi whistled. "Damn, you pushed shy Mina to the point of anger."

Hanna shook her head before looking at her flight member. "And you? You want to voice your opinion?"

Nowi shrugged. "I'm from Ostmark, I don't get an opinion on Karlslanin affairs."

_**USS Midway, 16:10**_

Whalen sat in the squadron day room tapping his foot impatiently against the floor. The clack of a pool cue hitting a ball filled room as cigarette smoke filled the air. A few feet away Dugald and Klien played pool as they decompressed from their last mission.

"Come on Grant, the kid's gonna be fine." Klein said as he applied blue chalk to his pool stick. There was another clack of a stick hitting a ball.

"It's the Krauts we're dealing with, I can't relax until I hear he's alright."

Another clack echoed in the room followed by a disappointed grown.

"Nice one Dugald."

"Fuck off," Dugald replied taking a drag of his cigarette. "The kid's probably having the time of his life, hanging out with half-naked German broads. Excuse me Karlslandin broad."

Another sharp clack as Klien hit the cue ball sending it crashing into another ball.

"Thinking back on it, why do you think they don't wear pants?"

Dugald exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Shit I don't know Bill, maybe they like the extra airflow."

"Hey, I'm just curious."

The door to the ready room opened as Ross and Peterson entered the room.

"Ah look what the cat dragged in," Klien started. "The ole Skipper and our resident color Peterson."

"Damn Klein you always that loud." Peterson, one of the few black fighter pilots in the navy replied.

Klein smiled before shaking Peterson's hand. "Relax brother, how many you get today?"

Peterson shook his head. "Lost count, too many of those little bastards. But that's beside the point, got a gift from Doc Roe." Peterson replied holding up a bottle of brandy.

"Mhh, gotta love that man."

Dugald took another crack at the cue ball before moving around the table. "Hey Bill, don't you got an important question to ask?"

"You're right, so why do you think those broads don't wear pants."

As the three pilots bantered, Ross approached Whalen.

"Got word from Reed."

Whalen sat up in his seat. "And?"

"Kid's alright, the Ger- I mean Karlslandin fighter squadron they're are gonna fix up his plane. He should be back in a few days."

"That's good. And us?"

Ross pulled a cigar out of his coat pocket. "Bauer talked with Admiral Harrison, the fleet's going to make its way to Britannia. Apparently, from there we're gonna talk with Allied high command."

"And what about getting home?"

Ross puffed on his cigar before putting a hand on Whalen's shoulder. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there son. Get some rest, we may get called up again."

"Time travel, aliens, magic, witches, makes war with the Soviets seem comforting."

"Trust me son, I'd rather face a familiar evil then face the unknown."

_**Achern Airfield, 18:34**_

Adolphine sat in her squadron leader's office with a lit cigarette in her hand, in front of her a map of Europe. Across the table sat her friend and commanding officer Wera Molders. The two witches had met during their days flying with the Condor Legion in Hispania, it was there the two had fought both the Hispania Republican forces and the Neuroi. Adolphine took a drag of her cigarette and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"How long is the Kaiser gonna deny help the outside, at this rate Karlsland with fall."

Wera took a drag of her own cigarette, the brown haired hazel eyed witch took a drag of her own cigarette. "Neuroi closing in from the east, and Neuroi closing from the south, Neuroi appearing in Africa, and yet the world remains divided."

"How long do we have?"

Wera leaned forward. "Maybe a year before Karlsland falls, don't know how long before the rest of Europe succumbs to them. We have a chance however, Liberion is stirring, if we can get them to commit to the war effort we may turn the tide."

"But only if we join the allies, as long as Hitler is whispering in the Kaiser's ear we have no chance." Adolphine replied crushing out the rest of her cigarette.

"Ever since that man was elected he's been a blight on Karlsland, the moment he ordered the occupation of Duchy of Warsaw he's turned the world against us."

"We're just as guilty, blindly following his orders. Believing it was for a greater Karlsland. If only we realized it earlier."

Wera studied her friend as she stared at the map in front of her. "All we can do now is defend Karlsland, and hope the Chancellor finds his way to the grave."

Adolphine smirked. "We can only hope."

The two were interrupted by a knock on the door, Wera crushed out the rest of her cigarette and stood up.

"Enter."

The door creaked open and a young girl no taller than 5'6 with blonde hair and blue eyes entered.

"U-um Leutnant Ottilie Kittel reporting as ordered." The young witch introduced herself as she stood at attention.

"You must be the new girl, Major Wera Molders welcome to the 26th fighter squadron. This is one of your flight leaders, Hauptmann Adolphine Galland."

"Pleasure to meet you Ma'am!"

Adolphine chuckled. "How old are you kid?"

"14 Ma'am."

The smile disappeared from Wera's face as she asked the question she asked every member of the squadron when they first arrived. "Tell me Leutnant, are you politically inclined?"

_**XXXXX**_

The warm summer air blew across the airfield and Reed relaxed under one of the many hangars. He sat on the wing of his fighter playing his harmonica taking request from the mechanics as they worked on his fighters. He had ditched his leather flight jacket in the cockpit of his fighter and had the top of his flight suit tied around his waster leaving him in a white t-shirt. His latest request was Lili Marlene, a German love song that still existed in this strange universe. The song had become popular back 1938 and was popular among both axis and allied troops during the Second World War. The mechanic crew applauded as the song came to an end and once again the mechanics began shouting requests. He was about to play another song when he saw a young woman standing at the entrance of the hangar. When the mechanics noticed her they immediately snapped to attention. The woman, who Reed guessed was a witch walked over to the fighter.

"Ensign Reed."

"Yes Ma'am?"

"Captain Galland would like to know if you would join us for dinner?" The woman asked in a meek tone.

"Uhhh sure."

"Follow me then."

Reed slid off the wing of his fighter, when he hit the ground he received greasy slaps on the back from the maintenance team. He shook his head and smiled as he waved them off and followed the witch out of the hanger. The two walked across the tarmac towards what Reed assumed some sort of barracks.

"So uhhh, what's your name?" Reed asked in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

"Helmina, Helmina Lent." Mina replied without looking back at her company.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance ma'am."

Reed shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up at the setting sun, the fighter pilot from Washington was a long way from home.

* * *

**First time in a long and I mean VERY long time sense I've written an air combat scene, as always if y'all see something that I don't bring it up on the net so I can fix it. Your criticism helps me become a better writer. ****As for a chapter schedule I want to try to keep it to a chapter a month but don't hold me to it, I got a busy few months ahead of me. My unit rotates to Germany in October and I believe we have one more gunnery between now an then, we also have to conduct rail head ops along with other pre-deployment stuff. As I said I'm gonna address a few comments.**

**Scalpel 2-5: I was with the Washington Wing Mt Rainier Composite Squadron.**

**Madmanalpha: Good call with the Lexington, I went in and changed that. I really do appreciate it. Not gonna lie I took some creative liberty for the sake of conflict, hope you can look past it.**

**SteryxR4: I'm taking my own stab at characters mixed with what we're given in canon and what the pilots did in real life (I.E Rudel be a stout Nazi and Galland being critical of Goering). The only Bearcats that would have been on Midway in 1950 were night fighter variants, the fighter role was dominated by F9Fs and Banshees, even Corsairs during the Korean War acted in a limited fighter roll being regulated a ground attack role.**

**Burto22: Simple answer is there is no modern equipment, in the 1950s the US Military used much of the same or similar weapons used during the second world war. Even in 1940 humanity could easily produce the early JP series fuel. **

**Anyways hope y'all enjoyed this chapter.**


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